


proving him wrong

by Ryah_Ignis



Series: Season 14 Codas [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14x03 Coda, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape, F/F, M/M, You thought wrong, you thought i forgot about the mixtape???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryah_Ignis/pseuds/Ryah_Ignis
Summary: "In less than ten minutes, Dean makes it painfully obvious that he can’t stand the too-full bunker.  He keeps his distance from all of the other residents, he snaps when he discovers that someone has rearranged his spice cabinet, and he glares at the soup Maggie puts in front of him like it’s done him a personal wrong.Sensing danger, Cas swoops in.  The last thing they need is for Dean to make enemies out of their new friends.  “Dean. Want to go for a drive?”Post 14x03, no one is doing all that hot.  Jody tells Claire, Sam and Dean talk about possession, and Cas and Dean have a chat about what Cas saw in his head.





	proving him wrong

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Alex looks up from the clipboard resting on her hip, her eyes narrowed as she takes in Jody’s state.  Jody can’t blame her. Her nose is still sluggishly dripping blood from that last hit, her arm is bent in a way it definitely shouldn’t be, and she’s pretty sure she’s got the beginnings of a concussion visible in her eyes.

“Hi, honey,” she says.

Alex is still on desk duty while she works her way through school, but she hands Jody off to a nurse who sets her straight in a matter of minutes.  They’ve all learned not to ask too many questions when she shows up like this. Small town benefits.

“I’m gonna take off early and make sure this one doesn’t get into any more trouble,” Alex tells the nurse once they’re done.

The nurse nods knowingly. “Make sure she gets some sleep, all right?”

And with a last disapproving look, they’re off.  Alex makes her leave her car in the hospital parking lot, horrified that she’d even dared drive back from the woods.  In hindsight, it wasn’t one of Jody’s better choices, but in her defense, she’s pretty damn concussed.

“So I’m guessing it’s not a serial killer, then,” Alex says as they pull on to the road.

She doesn’t take her eyes off the road.  Unlike Claire, she uses her blinker and always waits three sideways glances—left, right, left, just like the manual—at stop signs.  At least there’s one kid of Jody’s that’ll probably make it past thirty.

“No,” Jody says. “It’s not.”

Also unlike Claire, Alex doesn’t force her to elaborate.  Instead, she flicks off the radio when she notices Jody flinch at the loud noise and drives home in silence.

When they arrive home, Alex gets Jody settled on the couch.  They’re quiet coming in, but not quite quiet enough. Claire makes her way downstairs just as Alex is pressing a cup of tea into Jody’s hands.

Her eyes narrow on Alex. “You only make tea when she’s concussed.” Then, turning to Jody. “Why are you concussed?”

Claire probably won’t buy that she decided to give mountain biking a go, so Jody supposes she has to tell the truth.

“You need to sit down.”

Anyone not tuned in to Claire Novak’s moods probably wouldn’t have noticed the shift, but Jody is well-versed in her facial expressions by now.  The small pale of her cheeks, the tiny clench of her jaw, it’s all the equivalent of someone else gasping out loud.

“I’m gonna go read through my notes,” Alex says quickly, glancing between them. “Jody, please, for the love of God, get to bed at a reasonable hour.” 

And with that, she rushes upstairs.  Claire takes a seat on the couch next to Jody, a muscle jumping in her jaw.  She doesn’t press, though. Probably knows it won’t get her anywhere.

“Sam called.  They found Dean.”

Claire breaks into a grin. “That’s great!  So Michael, is he—”

“Not dead.”

Claire frowns. “Is this the part where you tell me not to let an archangel possess me?  Because let me tell you, one time was more than enough.”

Jody can’t help a small smile at that.  After about two months of living with her, Claire had rushed into her room in the middle of the night, still half in a nightmare.  They’d sat on the edge of Jody’s bed while Claire told her about what it had been like, briefly, to be Castiel’s vessel. It’s not a good memory, exactly, but it still makes her feel warm.  It was the first time Claire had trusted her enough to let her in.

“I know that.”

Claire’s frown deepens. “So what is it?”

“I found the thing killing those backpackers.  I thought it wasn’t our kind of thing, I told you, but it was.”

“Right,” Claire mutters.

She clearly doesn’t believe her, but Jody will deal with that later.

“It was the thing that killed Kaia.”

Claire freezes.  It’s like someone has hit pause on a movie.  Every muscle goes completely still. Jody lets her process before she continues.  She knows how love stings.

“Remember how the world Mary was in had duplicates?”

Sam had told her about the other Bobby a few weeks ago.  Jody still hasn’t worked up the nerve to meet him.

Would she even want to?

“Other versions of people?  I remember.”

“Kaia killed Kaia.”

Silence.  Jody reaches over and grips Claire’s hand, but the younger woman doesn’t pull away.  She doesn’t react at all. Jody opens her mouth to repeat herself, but Claire just shakes her head, numb.

“No.  That can’t be right.”

A single tear drips down her nose.  Without thinking, Jody reaches out and wipes it away.  It’s a testament to how shocked Claire is that she doesn’t jerk away.

“She’s still out there.  Michael is hunting her because that spear—”

“No!” Claire repeats, shaking her head as if she can will the truth out of existence.  Tears keep sliding down her face, faster than Jody can wipe them. “It can’t be her. It must have stolen her face, sucked her up or something.”

Jody just shakes her head, trying to keep the teariness out of her own voice. “It’s her, Claire.  That’s what Kaia had been dreamwalking all those years. Her life.”

At that, Claire lets out a sob.  She folds into Jody’s side, then, burying her face in the shoulder that isn’t currently covered in a sling.  There isn’t much Jody can do to hug her back, but she leans over Claire as much as she can, holding her tight.

“Why did  _ she  _ get to live?” Claire finally chokes out.

There isn’t really a response to that.  Instead, Jody just holds her tighter.

* * *

“Sammy?”

Sam’s been too quiet for too long.  Usually, he’d be on Dean’s case, asking over and over how he’s  _ feeling,  _ if he’s  _ okay.   _ And sure, Dean usually hates him for it, but the absence is creeping him out a little.

When he looks over, there are tears in his brother’s eyes.  Dean nearly brings the car to a halt.

“Sam?”

Noticing Dean’s eyes on him, Sam blinks once, twice, and he’s composed again.  If Dean hadn’t seen him upset a million times before, he wouldn’t have even noticed the redness to his nose that means he’s still on the verge of tears.

“The drowning,” he says, and yeah, his voice is still wavery. “I know what that feels like.”

It’s like an icy punch to the gut.  Dean glances up, sees a rest stop. He pulls off the highway.  It’s one of those tiny buildings with a handful of rusted-out toilets, a busted-up soda machine, and a couple of half-rotted picnic benches.  

He puts the car in park, but Sam doesn’t move to get out.

“You know, after Gadreel, I wanted you to know what it felt like.”

Dean can’t quite look at him.  Any reminder of that time—a personal low, without even the Mark or demonhood to excuse him—is usually enough for him to floor the Impala and cut off the conversation entirely.  Instead, he does his best to look Sam in the eye.

“Yeah?”

Sam nods. “I remember thinking to myself that if you knew what it felt like to be submerged, you would have never done that to me.”

Dean lets out a snort. “Karma’s a real bitch, isn’t it?”

Sam coughs, clearing out his throat.  When he speaks again, it’s not as watery.

“That was all I could think about the first week you were gone.  I felt like I’d—like I’d  _ wished  _ that on you, somehow.”

Dean just shakes his head. “No.  Sam, that’s—”

“Crazy?  Yeah, I know.  Still thought it, though.  I couldn’t help it.”

They both stay quiet for a moment, watching as a young woman hustles two children into the restroom, the harried look of a vacationer about her.  Back at her van, a man who’s probably her husband works at the straps of a rooftop carrier.

“Watching his hands—watching my hands—”

Dean waves his hands in the air, trying to articulate his point.  He fails, but Sam understands anyway.

“It feels like it’s your responsibility.”

Dean nods. 

“It’s not, though,” Sam says. “I mean, you did it to save me and Jack.  And it worked.”

A smile splits his face, then.  Dean realizes with a jolt that it’s the first time he’s seen his brother really smile in  _ years.  _

“Lucifer’s dead,” Sam says, slow and steady, as if he’s relishing both words. “And yeah, Michael’s got a plan, but he would have done it anyway.  We’ve got you back. No harm done. Well. No extra harm, anyway.”

Dean sticks the keys back in the ignition, sensing that their little heart-to-heart has run its course.  But there’s still one more thing he wants to ask.

“When do you—I mean, when does it feel like—”

“When does it feel like they’re your hands again?” Sam asks.

Dean nods.

At that, Sam smiles again, but it’s the smile Dean’s all too used to.  It’s tinged with a sadness that reminds Dean just how old his brother is in his soul.

“Let me know if you find out.”

* * *

In less than ten minutes, Dean makes it painfully obvious that he can’t stand the too-full bunker.  He keeps his distance from all of the other residents, he snaps when he discovers that someone has rearranged his spice cabinet, and he glares at the soup Maggie puts in front of him like it’s done him a personal wrong.

Sensing danger, Cas swoops in.  The last thing they need is for Dean to make enemies out of their new friends.  “Dean. Want to go for a drive?”

Cas allows him to stay quiet until they’re a few miles down the road towards Smith Center.

“I know you weren’t blacked out the entire time.”

Dean tenses, his hands clenching on the wheel before he forces himself to relax. “So?”

“I saw what he made you see,” Cas continues, unflinching. “Over and over again.”

Silence.  A muscle slowly ticks in Dean’s jaw, but otherwise he doesn’t react.  Outside the car, rain starts to fall, a steady drumbeat on the roof.

Cas pauses, thinks how he wants to say it. “You’d come home from a hunt.  Invite me on a drive.”

He reaches inside his coat, pulls out the tape.  Dean’s eyes flick to it and then away.

“You’d tell me to put this on.”

He presses the mixtape into the deck.  The Rain Song starts in the background.  Dean still determinedly focuses on the road in front of him.

“And then you’d tell me that you’d realized something in the months I was dead.  Something you’d never let yourself realize before.”

Dean pulls over to the side of the road in a spray of gravel.  Cas keeps his voice just as steady and even.

“You’d stop the car.”

He pulls the keys out of the ignition. “Cas—”

Cas reaches across the bench, laces his fingers through Dean’s.  He falls silent, looking down as if their entangled fingers are the most extraordinary thing he’s ever seen.

“There was just one detail he didn’t get right.”

Dean still won’t look at him, but Cas’s heart is doing a funny thing he’s fairly certain it’s never done before, leapfrogging in his chest.

“Because there is no world in which I’d ever turn you away,” Cas says quietly.

He hadn’t wanted to go too fast, hadn’t wanted to take advantage of what he’d seen in Dean’s head.  But he knows perfectly well that if he hadn’t, Dean would have never mentioned it himself.

Finally, Dean’s green eyes level with his.  Cas thinks, absurdly, that they remind him of springtime.  With his free hand, Dean brushes a hand over Cas’s face. It’s featherlight, like he’s grounding himself.

“I thought he was right.”

Cas shakes his head. “No.”

And he can’t help himself anymore.  The kiss is salty, probably because they’re both crying now, sitting in the darkened car with Led Zeppelin still playing quietly in the background.

“I’m going to keep proving him wrong,” Cas says when they separate. “As many times as it takes.”

And even though it’s weary, the smile on Dean’s face is genuine.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Guys this season is so awesome it's making these codas really hard! I'm super impressed with the emotional pacing so far :D
> 
> As always, I love to see what you guys think!


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